


Destiny Changer

by Sigmund



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, Heavy Angst, Suicide Attempt Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:45:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigmund/pseuds/Sigmund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for bbcmusketeer kink with some changes: What if the confrontation and shooting between Athos and d`Artagnan was`nt a set up?, what if Treville really did fire d`Artagnan from the Musketeers?.<br/>Instead of agreeing to kill Athos for Milday, a broken and wounded d`Artagnan decides there is nothing and no one left for him, either in Paris nor in Gascony.<br/>Give me an emotionally broken d`Artagnan who just tired of life and wants to end it all<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Destiny Changer

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Suicide attempt and lots of angst. I did change some of the prompt-- no relationship and I couldn't do the river. Spoilers for Episode 10. All mistakes are my own. I expanded and kept picking at this so It turned out more expanded (which has been a request by readers of my other work)

D'Artagnan, Aramis and Porthos were in the garrison courtyard when the call came out.

 

"Athos is holding a woman hostage in the street!"

 

They shared a look before they went running, worried that the drink had gone to their friend's head.

 

Athos had been drinking and in his arms held the woman he had slept with upon arriving to Paris, the woman who had saved him, his patroness, Milady de Winter. He remembered Constance's words- she had been frightened. D'Artagnan had come to the same conclusion that Milady was a wicked woman, but Athos's connection was unclear.

 

"Let her go, Athos," d'Artagnan said his hands up in a placating movement. He could not allow the older musketeer to find his character and morals publicly smirched. The woman had to be properly brought to justice.

 

"This is not like you," Aramis added. "Release the woman and we will go to the tavern."

 

Athos shook his head, musket under Milady's breast. "This is no woman, this is my murdering wife."

 

D'Artagnan swallowed the burning bile that came into his throat. He alone knew the story of Athos's wife. She had murdered Athos's brother and was supposed to have hung for her crime leaving behind a tortured soul. What was worse was that d'Artagnan was familiar with her. He understood Athos's need for revenge, but his way would lead to further heartbreak for Athos. D'Artagnan stayed on his course, "Bring her to trial. We can't allow you to do this here."

 

"Allow me?" Athos spat. He pulled her hair, causing Milady to gasp. "She escaped death once already. Who are you to tell me what to do, boy?"

 

"d'Artagnan, help me." Milady begged as she tried to pull away.

 

"You know her?" Athos growled, shaking his wife.

 

"Yes. No. It was before I met you, then after, but I never knew her connection." His stomach twisted as the accusations were seen in Athos's eyes.

 

"She was your patroness!" Aramis turned, always quick minded.

 

"It doesn't matter," d'Artagnan begged. This was not a rational discussion- it was too heated and taking too many turns. It was complicated. "She should be tried by the king."

 

"Or you are a traitor and want to save your employer." Porthos's experience led him to another conclusion that would show that his trust in d'Artagnan was false and he was willing to shuffle a friendship away.

 

"No-" d'Artagnan took a step forward. He did not realize that Athos would believe it was a threat. His mentor fired the musket, catching him on the side. d'Artagnan reeled in shock, stumbling back until he hit the ground, jolting the breath from his body.

 

There was cacophony around him, but he could not make any of it out clearly since all he knew was that Athos had shot him and a coldness settled in around him dimming it all to nothing.

 

\----

 

Athos wondered if Anne's scream was of fear for herself or despair for her lover. He pushed her away, and she stumbled towards d'Artagnan.

 

"Find a physician!" She ordered. She bent down and placed her hands over the bloody wound.

 

This was the Anne he remembered soft in moments and steel in her depths. He came alongside her, ignoring the results of his actions. "You work for the Cardinal. Get us the proof to show he arranged the assassination of the Queen." There had to be some good that came from his shame of a wife.

 

Aramis, Porthos and Treville were on bent down by d'Artagnan who was unconscious. There was blood on Anne's hands as well as Aramis's, but the sharpshooter seemed lost. Athos distanced himself. He had just shot d'Artagnan and could draw no feelings because his hate, anger and passion for Anne was overwhelming, leaving no room for other consideration.

 

"Do that and we will try not to implicate you," Treville added, taking the opportunity for the plan.

 

"Call a cart," she snapped. "I will tend to him as you have hardly a care when it comes to your friend." She wiped the blood on d'Artagnan's shirt before standing up.

 

Porthos found a cart, and carried d'Artagnan. The three of them watched as the driver, the cart and Anne left.

 

"Athos, how could we have so misjudged d'Artagnan?" Aramis always considered himself a good judge of character, able to see through to a person's soul.

 

"We've known him for only a year," Athos replied, thinking of the signs of the faults. D'Artagnan had known about his wife, about Thomas.

 

"He's only shown us loyalty." Aramis was still seeking answers. "We may have been hasty."

 

"The wound? Will he make it?" Porthos asked, looking at the blood still on Aramis's hands. Aramis nodded.

 

"Good." Porthos seemed relieved, but Athos wanted them to harden their hearts to the truth.

 

"You don't know her like I do and he is an impressionable, inexperienced boy." Athos recalled another fool in a similar situation that had cost him a brother.

 

\----

 

When he awoke his side ached fiercely in pulse, pulse staccato. The stitches were crude, seeping blood. He tried to figure out how long he had been unconscious and where he had found himself. Daylight was streaming inside, and the location was revealed when Milady de Winter entered, the stiff material of her dress sparking the air.

 

"He could have killed you." She sat on the side of the bed as d'Artagnan pushed himself to sitting in a dizzying moment that had him gripping the sheets. "My dear husband has no mercy."

 

He was in the middle of the bed, moved to the side to put his feet on the ground. "That is because you killed his brother." She would not sway d'Artagnan's allegiance to Athos, but he could not support her having been killed in the street. Why had he made himself judge? He spied his shirt at the end of the bed and went to fetch it. "Why are we here?"

 

"They could not arrest me for traversing a street. There is no proof. I have done no crimes, and so I took you into my care." She helped him with his shirt, tying the front laces. He ignored the red stain, drying to brown and the tear from the musket fire. "And here you are with me, and not the musketeers. Why is that?" She did not give him a chance to answer, she gave her own reply, "It is because Athos is a destiny changer."

 

A knock at the door interrupted them and without notice Milady opened it to reveal Treville. He did not allow the Captain to provide any greeting. "Sir, I think I need to explain-" d'Artagnan hoped he would listen to his truth. This had all been interpreted incorrectly. He did not belong here with her.

 

There was no reprieve from the fellow Gascon. "d'Artagnan you have been dismissed from the Musketeers."

 

"But, I. I mean to say-" How had he fallen so quickly?

 

Treville cut him off with a shake of his head. "It does not matter. Athos is the best soldier in the regiment and he will remain."

 

"He is, but-" d'Artagnan could not disagree. It was why he was proud he was being mentored by one of the best along with Aramis and Porthos. He was better because of their tutelage.

 

"There is also the question about your character that would be difficult to overcome." He turned to the other occupant in the room. "Madame de Winter," he bowed and left leaving a stunned d'Artagnan to wither and sit on the edge of the bed.

 

Milady sat next to him, her fingers going through the hole in his shirt. "They won't believe you. You've been tainted by me." She leaned against him. "After all, Olivier did not believe that Thomas, his own brother, attacked me. He is a man that does not give mercy. But I can give you mercy, a place with the Cardinal. You would just have to past a test."

 

He hadn't heard what she said, just echoing the last words as he was stunned. "A test?"

 

"Kill Athos. He took so much away from you." She traced a hand up his injured flank. "It should only be a minor inconvenience. You promised me that one day you would."

 

When they first met he had vowed to hurt the man who had hurt her. He was showing kindness to a woman who had given him some comfort, which he now knew was veiled in deceit. "No, thank you, Madame." He stood up to get away from her. "You’ve done quite enough." She was the devil's helper.

 

"And where will you go? There is no home and hearth in Gascony for you."

 

D'Artagnan did not turn around to acknowledge her. He had to go to the garrison to pray for a chance to share his side of the story. If just given the opportunity to tell them how he met her before he met them. The part where he did not know who she was and yes, she had helped him, but then he dismissed her.

 

Standing guard were two of his friends at the garrison, Michel and Jean were at the gate. He gave them a nod, but they stepped in front of him, shoulder to shoulder. "Captain's orders. You are not welcomed here."

 

There was scorn in their tone, and they were ready to fight him if he passed further. News had spread, the other story where Athos and the others were victims, duped by d'Artagnan.    His tendency would have been to fight, but it would not help his cause only to prove the charges against him true. "Very well."

 

He had to prove his innocence. The only way to do that was to bring Milady to justice, have her tell the truth. He took up following her. He watched, getting as close as he could while she visited the Cardinal in secret, then to a tavern, her face hooded as she met with a mercenary. He stayed in the shadows, warmth never touching him. Sleep was fleeting as he gained a keen awareness.

 

She and the mercenary had a past, it was evident. Milady had hired him for a job so he continued his mission, leading d'Artagnan to see they were planning an attack on the three inseparables.

 

D'Artagnan had to help his friends- they may have rebuked him, but he was stalwart with his honor to them. If he was steadfast, then he would return to their fold. He could see where it would seem that he was working with Milady, and this would change their view of him.

 

He scaled to the rooftop over the alley where the attack was planned. Silently, he came upon two men, taking out one with a slit of his throat, then stabbing the other one before he was able to react. D'Artagnan covered his face and took the hat of one while divesting both of their muskets. He would need them so he could save on reloading.

 

Aramis, Porthos and Athos strode down the street in pride, killing and maiming as they made their way down the street. D'Artagnan took his three shots, hid back when Porthos fired in his direction not realizing the younger man was helping them with their assailants.

 

When it was over and Athos once again had his wife in his grips, d'Artagnan watched in hopefulness that she would be arrested and brought to trial to answer for her crimes. In his mind he saw he would be vindicated and welcomed back to the regiment. From his vantage point he could not hear what was being said, their reactions showed a heated exchange. Aramis had looked up in his direction, but he shirked back to hide from view.

He watched as they _had let her go_. In a blink Athos released her with a push away from him. They had all walked away. D'Artagnan turned over, lying flat against the roof with the dead mercenaries surrounding him. He realized the injustice as the sky clouded over and the coldness in his bones remained.

 

It was over. Whatever plan Athos had created with the musketeers was not about his vindication. D'Artagnan was so determined that he did not see he was but a useless pawn, easily thrown away. There would be no proclamation of innocence. He ached to return to Gascony, to his farm and tenants, but that was not possible. Word would eventually arrive from Paris of his disgrace, traitorous behavior. He would lose the respect of those around him. What his father worked hard to keep as a leader in the area.

 

D'Artagnan sat up with a clearer path, truly the only path available to him. It was true, Athos was a destiny changer.

 

\----

 

Athos knew it was a trap. Yet, it was his duty to see his wife finally end her tyranny along with reining in the Cardinal. It was thick fighting with Aramis and Porthos by his side. Finally the alley was clear and Anne stood before him.

 

"The proof?" Athos put out his hand. She would give them the evidence needed to show the Cardinal's misconduct in attempting to kill the Queen. It would be enough to subdue Richelieu.

 

"I keep my promises, husband." She pulled out the sealed letter. "I never said it would be easy."

 

Porthos was by his side, Aramis looking up seeing something hidden from the others, but let the distraction go by as no threat.

 

Athos caught her wrist and pulled her in, still intoxicated by the smell of jasmine, her dark hair and beautiful face. "We are both difficult to kill, Madame."

 

"But we will try." Her eyes did not leave his even as he brought his sword up. "And there are those caught in the middle who are wounded, like your d'Artagnan."

 

"Do you not mean your d'Artagnan? We all know the boy is part of your plot." She was trying to manipulate him. He made peace about the boy. D'Artagnan was not an innocent like Thomas.

 

"You nearly killed him. d'Artagnan, the poor boy, probably has run off to Gascony. I asked him to kill you and join the Red Guards, and he found it distasteful. He had hope, which shows how little he knew about you, Oliver."

 

"Is she lying?" Porthos asked Athos.

 

He did know her best, and learned how she set a trap. She was full of guile and her words were meant to be deviations.

 

"He's innocent, but you'll never believe me. There will always be that doubt with him. You doubted our love, you will always doubt him." She shook off his wrist, rubbed where he had left his mark. "It's funny really, a cruel revenge."

 

The seed was planted about d'Artagnan's innocent. "Go, get out, leave France never to return."

 

Athos's wife walked away through the destruction and rubble she had helped create. He prayed he would never see her again, and the turmoil that he carried with him since Thomas's death, since what he believed was his wife's death, loosened. He turned and saw the accusations in the eyes of Porthos and Aramis.

 

"We never listened to his explanation. He said he did not know who she was, Athos." He had silenced Aramis before when he tried to come to d'Artagnan's defense.

 

"I know." Athos was protecting himself against Anne and her nefarious ways of deception that he was sure she had used to corrupt the boy. Now he was not so clear about his initial judgment, which had poisoned Aramis and Porthos against d'Artagnan, too. He was a leader, one who could sway others, but in this case his fallibility in comprehending character could have been his downfall. He had been taken in by Anne. The seed had grown into shame, his familiar friend. He had wronged the boy.

 

"She was his patroness and she helped him with Vadim. That does cast a shawdow on the lad, but was it enough to turn him out? He who casts the first stone…we have been cruel." Aramis continued voicing his doubts.

 

"What are we going to do about the boy?" Porthos was more direct.

 

They had to first deal with the Cardinal show him they had proof to ruin him, then then they would find d'Artagnan.

 

\----

 

 

Constance heard a knock and went to answer, but found no one there even after looking right and left. She looked down, seeing the package. She recognized d'Artagnan's scrawl and it made her heart leap as she bundled inside. She slipped out the letter addressed to her that was wrapped in string.

 

_Dearest Constance,_

_You are still in my heart and I hope it does not pain you to hear that. I hope you find happiness with your husband. It is well deserved. You will not hear from me again. I hope for the boy from Gascony that you were kind to that I can I ask a boon of you. Please deliver this package and letter to Athos._

 

She clutched the letter to her, feeling the finality of it and unable to bear the truth as she started to cry, quietly at first then with great sobs. Her husband was out, thankfully leaving her side so she could mourn. She had heard the rumors about d'Artagnan and another woman, a husband, behavior unbecoming a Musketeer. This letter was confirmation.

When she was able to cry no more she washed her face, tidied herself though the emotions were clear, and set off to the garrison with package. There was a quietness in the yard, she found Athos coming down the stairs with Aramis and Porthos.

 

"Madame Bonacieux, how can we help you?" Aramis asked, but he seemed distracted. The greeting lacked his usual panache.  

 

"I was asked to give this to Athos." She held out the light package. "It is from d'Artagnan."

 

Porthos frowned at the package, and Athos did not open it. "Do you know where he is?" The larger man asked.

 

"No. I've heard rumors though-" She pursed her lips to silence herself, not wanting to breathe life into the innuendo. "I thought he had returned to Gascony?"

 

"Only rumors, a misunderstanding. He will return soon." Athos bowed his head.

 

It was enough to assure her, although believing he was in Gascony had emptied her heart. She would not see him as he found someone else, married, had children, and mended his broken heart.  It would have been a compete loss, but if he were to return to Paris, then there was always a chance to see him, watch him from afar. "Thank you."

 

They watched Constance leave the garrison without an escort home, but Athos could not muster his manners. He stared down at the letter, the others reading it over his shoulder.

 

_Dear Athos,_

_My worthiness for the pauldron has been found to be lacking. I return it to your care._

_Your justice will be served as it should have been in the beginning. Someone should pay the price, and I am willing. I pray this makes it right for you to find peace. If ever I lose my black mark, then I hope you will remember me fondly._

 

"That sounds like-" Porthos swallowed the rest of his statement avoiding the obvious.

 

Athos felt the shape of the cuff through the paper, recalled how his own heart swelled with pride when it was bestowed. Why had he lost sight that he _knew_ this boy? D'Artagnan had kept his secret, provided solace, stood with them. Anne did not have the ability to mar everything, and perhaps d'Artagnan was proof of that.

 

"Athos, we must find him." Aramis was filled with determination. "What does this mean?"

 

It should have been Anne who paid the price or himself for bringing the viper into the den. He had treated d'Artagnan as the scapegoat and the embodiment of all evil and wrongness in his life. "My home. He is going to my home."

\----

 

He rented a horse and hoped it would find its way back since he would not be able to return it. The journey to La Ferre was quiet and leisurely with relief. It lacked the heaviness he thought he would carry to his death perhaps because he had a direction with a known outcome. His other paths had been without destination- he could see that now. His father would be sorely disappointed in him, without his father's guidance he had made mistakes. It was proof that Alexandre d'Artagnan was taken away from this life too soon.

 

The wound on his side was troublesome, he hadn’t tended to it. There was no need to now.

 

The burned out shell of the manor house was still there. D'Artagnan took the site in wondering how similar his own home in Gascony looked. He kicked at some of the debris to see if he could retrace his steps where Porthos had been stitched, where the paintings had hung. He then walked his horse to the tree in the distance, taking his time.

 

There was a tree and he had the rope. He stuck his sword in the tree to take away the temptation to cut himself down at the last minute. He looped the rope around the branch and winded the rope to make a noose. He patted the horse gently sorry the creature would be a part of his death, but it seemed fitting. This was where Athos's wife was supposed to die and so he deserved to die there in her place. In this story he was the villain. He could not overcome that in the minds of his friends, and could not see getting the opportunity to do so.

 

D'Artagnan squinted into the sun for a moment too long, seeing spots, but wanting the sun to warm him. He blinked when he saw three forms crest the hill, believing it was the sunlight until he heard the thundering hooves.

 

He gave a small nod and smile. This time Athos would stay to watch to make sure the act was complete. D'Artagnan did not want to disappoint, hitting the horse so it charged. The length of rope went taut and pulled him off as the noose tightened, then loosened as he was thrown to the ground.

 

D'Artagnan's breath was forced from his body, the back of his head hitting the exposed tree root to stun him. He blinked, seeing Athos on his horse above him brandishing his sword.

 

Athos dismounted, kneeled next to him. D'Artagnan followed the older man's eyes to the sword he had stuck in the tree. It was then d'Artagnan understood. Athos wanted to duel; perhaps it had been Aramis's suggestion to protect d'Artagnan's soul from an unconsecrated death. He appreciated the consideration, and wished he could thank the man. A duel was at least honorable, and with Athos's anger it would be quick.

 

D'Artagnan forced his body to work, pushing his arms, ignoring his side where he felt a dampness. He tried to find his voice and it came out in a pained whisper. "I'd appreciate a moment before we end this."

 

"What?"

 

His back was to the tree, giving him enough leverage to come to standing. "The duel." His hand went to the hilt of the sword. He hoped he had the strength to pull it from the bark.

 

"No." Athos had remained kneeling.

 

"Oh." D'Artagnan was confused, his hopes dashed at a modicum of honor for a quiet shameful death. Was he to be returned to Paris as a prisoner? Would they execute him by firing squad? "What will happen to me?" He slid down, the effort to remain standing no longer needed. His jacket rode up against the bark.

 

"I will beg your forgiveness and hope that you see it fit to grant it."

 

"We should have heard you out, allowed you a chance to defend yourself against her lies." Aramis looked grim and sad, his tone soft as if dealing with a skittish child.

 

"Not all lies." D'Artagnan shrugged. He wanted to retain his honesty- he had carnal knowledge of Athos's wife, allowed her to help him. "That is the problem."

 

"You didn't know who she was. None of us did. Right?" Porthos forced his confession on to the younger man.

 

D'Artagnan pulled his knees in, wrapped his arms around them. "Right." He put his head down as he felt he was drowning in emotion, unable to comprehend how to feel. "I saw her go. You let her go."

 

"I could not kill her." Athos closed his eyes.

 

" _You were_ there in the alley." Aramis glanced at Porthos.

 

He nodded his head unable to answer as he remained folded in on himself, and took to wrapping his arms around his middle. His right hand getting wet from the blood running down his side.

 

"I _knew_ someone was helping us."

 

"We were coming to find you when Constance came," Athos explained.

 

"Thank God we reached you in time," Aramis said.

 

D'Artagnan looked up in time to see Aramis bless himself and kiss the cross the queen had given him. Had he given the letter to Constance so that she would intervene for him, but he couldn't have known they would stop him from suicide. He bit his lip.

 

"Are you all right?" Porthos was studying him.

 

He shook his head. He was filled with too many emotions each looking for dominance. He looked up to see Aramis cutting away at the rope he had looped on the tree branch, throwing it a far distance as if it were a serpent.

 

D'Artagnan had been cursed by Athos's wife. He would never know if he was completely trusted or at the whim of one of these men he would find himself pushed out of the regiment. He lifted his right hand. "Do you believe me because of this? This was no choice. I had no choice." He had nothing to lose, nothing left once his friends and the musketeers were gone.

 

"I'm sorry. No, we believe you because we know you. I should have never let this happen." Athos caught d'Artagnan's hand. "This is blood. Aramis, he is injured."

 

"No. Let it be. I want to feel something." He returned his hand to his side, slick with wetness. His blood was warm, one part of him felt right. "You were trying to kill me."

 

"I don't know," Athos whispered. "I was so angry, and at the moment I could only see Thomas dead and all against me."

 

Aramis slipped off his horse, then sat down in the grass, while Porthos tied up two of the horses, and cantered off , returning a little while later with d'Artagnan's rented mount. He dismounted and tied both of those horses with the others. Porthos had faith they would resolve their differences, and leave this place together. He sat next to Aramis.

 

It gave time for d'Artagnan to find his words. "Trust is fragile. I apologize for having relations with your wife."

 

"You didn’t know." Athos moved in a little closer, checking to see if d'Artagnan would allow it. "I see that now."

 

"I feel betrayed- you must too." D'Artagnan gestured with his head acknowledging Athos's feelings. "But being abandoned- that you could not know. I have no family and I thought. . ." What did he think? The regiment would be mother, father, brother and lover. He still carried a naiveté that he was quickly losing, which he wanted returned to him.

 

Athos was wearing d'Artagnan's pauldron on his forearm. He unbuckled it, reverently lying on the ground between them.

 

"Is that why?" Porthos looked up at the branch that was above them.

 

He looked at the cuff, barely worn. "I could not return to Lupiac in disgrace."

 

Athos pushed the mark of the musketeers closer to d'Artagnan. "The disgrace was always mine. I want to make amends."

 

" _We_ wish to. You have shown us your loyalty and we want to prove ours." He had stood by Aramis with Marsac, embarrassing himself in front of Treville saying he had slipped instead of catching the perpetrator. He had done that for Aramis. He had kept Athos's secret. He had helped them give Bonnaire to Spain for the sake of Porthos.

 

"Treville said to get you back," Porthos added as if the captain was also apologizing for his actions.

 

Aramis crawled closer. "Let me tend to your wound. You grow paler by the minute."

 

He was going to live so he lifted his hand away so Aramis could see to it. He stretched his legs out, though he was more comfortable when they were tucked. The marksman removed his gloves before lifting d'Artagnan's shirt. "All the stitches have opened. It has to be re-stitched."

 

"Here or in Paris?" Athos would never risk another person's life again as he had done with Porthos in order to avoid his ancestral home.

 

"In Paris." D'Artagnan wanted to make a choice. It would have been easy to pick at revenge and force Athos to remain at his home, but that was not his way, not if he was going to give them the grace of forgiveness.

 

No one contradicted him. Aramis nodded, and went to his saddle bag to retrieve bandages, which he used to squelch the wound. "We should make our way back as soon as possible."

 

The wrappings were tight to slow the bleeding, but not enough for d'Artagnan to know what he wanted to happen. "Then what?"

 

"We begin again." Athos picked up the pauldron and buckled it on d'Artagnan's shoulder, and destiny was righted.


End file.
